I am Sherlocked
by Doctor Who is real
Summary: This story takes place before John comes into the picture. Freya Hudson comes to live with her aunt Martha Huson, and the first person she meets at 221b Baker Street is a strange man who says his name is Sherlock Holmes.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello folks^^ this is my very first fanfiction, and I am very excitedX3 I would love if you would give me some reviewes. (If I have some misspellings then please write it to me, and please don't get angry, english is not my native language, so I make mistakes.) I will update as soon as I am finished writingXD. **

"Aunt Martha!" I closed the door after me, when I stepped inside the 221B Baker Street were my aunt, Martha Hudson lived. There was no answer when I called out and I stepped further into the house. A sound up stairs made me curious and I began to climb the stairs, there it was again, the sound, almost like a violin... wait, it was a violin. I didn't remember my aunt playing that, so I continued up the stairs. I stopped just outside the door on the first floor, the violin came from here, I cracked the door open, slowly, and looked through with just one eye, then the head, then the rest of my body. It was a man, tall, black curled hair, and pale skin, and he stood with his back to me so I couldn't see his face. I just stood there until he had played the piece done. Still with his back to me he said, with a dark, low voice "by the sound of your footsteps you are a woman, and by your hesitation you are not a killer, and you are not Mrs. Hudson, I know her sound. Who are you?" when he said the last words he turned to face me. His ice blue eyes looked at me, not undressing me, but looking through me, reading me like a book. "Judging by your appearance you are in-mid twenties, here to ask your aunt, Mrs Hudson, if you can live with her. Parents, divorced. Working part-time as a secretary, but you study art. Coming from the countryside, from a place where it rained not so long ago, probably Hampshire." I just glanced dumbfounded at the strange man for a few minutes before a "who are you?" blurted out of my mouth. The man lay down his violin and sat in a black chair before he answered "Sherlock Holmes, only counselling detective in the world. And you are?" "Freya Hudson, you live in my aunt's house."

Sherlock putted his hands together and closed his eyes. I just stood there, looking around. On the wall there was a big, yellow smiley, with lots of holes in it, almost like many bullets had pierced the wall, my eyebrows jumped up a bit, then I turned my head to the fireplace, and there I saw, was it? No it wasn't, it couldn't be, a skull, there was a skull in this man, Sherlock Holmes' living room. I tip-toed over to the fireplace and reach out to touch the skull, just to see if it was real and not a copy of plastic. Just before my finger touched a yell sounded from the chair, Sherlock jumped up and was by the fireplace within seconds as he pulled the skull into his chest, like a mother who cared too much for her child to be touched by any human being. "Don't touch him, he doesn't like other people!" I just stood there with my mouth a bit open, and then I heard my aunt downstairs calling for me. "Freya. Darling where are you?" I shut my mouth and called over my shoulder "upstairs aunty!" a mumbling that suspiciously sounded like an "oh god what have Sherlock done now?" came from the staircase. I rolled my eyes, aunt Martha had always been overprotective to me. Steps sounded up the stairs and a moment later Aunt Martha stood in the door with two big shopping bags in each of her hands, panting after air. "Sherlock, dear have you said anything bad to Freya?" Sherlock looked at my aunt with offensive eyes "Mrs Hudson, you know I only say what comes to my mind, and nothing else. No sweet-talking, I've always hated that, makes me shiver." I just couldn't hold back a laugh, and I had to sit down at the floor because of the stomach ache the laughing caused. My aunt and Sherlock stopped glaring at each other and turned to stare at me instead. "Sorry... I'm sorry it's just..." another laughing attack stopped me for saying more, and eventually Sherlock turned away and sat down in the chair again, my aunt sighed and looked down at me with a small smile in the corner of her mouth, she reach her hand down for me to take, and then pulled me off the floor. "The room I told you about is upstairs Freya darling." I followed her out of the room and away from Sherlock, the strange man who had a skull in his living room, and up the next pair of stairs.

The room wasn't so big, but it had a bed, a table, a chair and a wardrobe I could put my clothes in, but I could manage. Aunt Martha had invited me for dinner, so I quickly unpacked my things, and walked down the stairs. As I came to the ledge were Sherlock lived a loud "BRILLIANT! I AM BRILLIANT!" came from inside the room and I stopped, turned to the door and cracked it open for the second time that day. Sherlock walked around in a circle in the middle of the room with his hands spread out like he embraced an invisible person, he muttered to himself, his voice filled with joy, the only thing I got from the muttering was something like "of course, it was the brother, why didn't I notice the fold on his sleeve earlier?" He pulled out his phone and send a text. "What do you want?" he then asked calmly still not looking at me."I erhm I was just wondering how you could tell those things about me earlier." Then he looked at me, with those cold, sharp icy blue eyes, "you have to rings in a necklace around your neck, if they were dead you wouldn't have them, they would probably get buried with them, therefore your parents are divorced, you have some ink on your right thumb, and on your index finger, from when you lick at your fingers and flip through pages fresh from the printer, and the thing about you studying art, you have a blue spot of paint under your left ear, a place you would never notice it being there." As he said the thing about the blue spot under my ear my hand just flew up and scratched there by itself, I got a little uncomfortable with this man who could read my life story by looking at my appearance.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello beautiful people, I will apologize for five months delay on this chapter, it would be normal to blame the lateness on family matters, school, work and friends, but instead I will blame myself and my laziness, and of course the huge writers block I got just after I started on this chapter-_-' anyway, I will try to update as fast as possible, but I can't promise weekly updates (Well maybe I could, but I won't because I know I won't make them.) I guess there's nothing left to say than enjoy this chapter:3

The next morning I was suddenly waken by a gunshot, I quickly threw on my dressing gown and ran down stairs, this time without knocking I entered Sherlock's room, he was still sitting in his chair like the day before, but he held a gun loosely in his hand. As I looked at him he raised his arm and shot at the wall, just where the smiley was. Without hesitation I took the few steps over to the man and pulled the gun out of his grip, he got up with a loud yelp, but I just smirked at him.

"As awesome I think a smiley with gun holes on the wall is I don't think my aunt will appreciate it."

He glanced at me a bit more before, he with a loud sigh fell back into the chair

"I'm bored!"

"Well yes, I kind of figured that out by now."

I walked over to the other chair, bumped down into it, and wrapped my arms around my legs.

"What do you do? I mean as a consulting detective."

He turned around in his chair so he faced me

"I consult the police when they are out of their depth, which means always. But there haven't been any fun murders lately, it bores me!"

I shook my head a bit with a tiny smile in the corner of my mouth.

"You are a bit weird, you know that?"

A few wrinkles showed at the corner of his eyes and I guessed that this was his way of smiling.

The first day of art school started and I found myself in a classroom filled with people my age talking about irrelevant stuff, I had taken a seat in the corner far away from the door, and close to the windows so I could look out if class got to boring.

The first three lessons were boring like hell, because I knew all the things they tried to teach all the others, so I looked out of the window, bored, more than one time did the teachers catch me not paying attention, but when they asked me a question I could answer it perfectly. The last three hours of the first day was art class, we had something about that guy Leonardo Da Vinci, clever bloke that man, quiet a genius.

I got home around 3 pm. in the afternoon. I slammed the door and yelled out into the apartment "Dull!" "Tell me about it," Sherlock said appearing on the top of the stairs, he began to walk down from there.

"Where are you going?" I asked him curiously, but in that moment his telephone let out a loud screaming tone, a large smile appeared on his face as he pressed the "start call" button.

"Is it something fun?"

Not going out of his way to introduce himself to the person in the other end, because he knew who it was, and what it was about. I couldn't hear the answer, but the smile on his face widen as the voice in the other end spoke, he pressed the "end call" button and a loud cry of joy slipped from his lips,

"Can I come with you?" I asked

He looked at me and shrugged his shoulder,

"Sure, I could use another's opinion on this case."

I led out a loud cheer, dumped my schoolbag and tossed my jacked on again, this was going to be interesting.

Outside 221b baker street Sherlock hailed a cab,

"To Hyde Park."

The cabbie nodded and started the motor.

I looked curiously at Sherlock,

"Why are we going to Hyde Park" I asked.

"Because, my dear Freya, something fun and exciting have happened at the lake there, you know the one they call The Serpentine."

"Fun and exciting? Explain what that is."

"A body has been found," he said with a smirk on his face, "I love a good case, don't you too Miss Hudson?"

I looked at him with surprise in my eyes; he looked at me, waiting for me to answer the question.

"Well," I said, "I have never had a case, or a dead body, so I wouldn't know Mr Holmes, but I imagine that it would be interesting."

We arrived at Hyde Park before he could answer, from what I could see it was surrounded by police cars and that barrier tape thing I have always seen in detective movies and stuff.

A woman with black curly hair came over to us when we got out of the car.

"Hello freak, got a friend?"

I decided that I didn't like her, but I still thought that Sherlock's comeback was awesome.

"Hello Donovan, still sweeping Anderson's floor I see."

The woman apparently named Donovan to last name turned bright red and mumbled a "Come along freak, Lestrade wants to see you, now!"

Sherlock followed with a satisfied smirk plastered on his face, I stumbled after.

When we arrived at the Serpentine, a middle aged, grey-haired man walked towards us.

"Sherlock, just in time, I can give you ten minutes at the crime scene, the higher ups wouldn't let me give you more." He looked questioningly at me when Sherlock began to answer.

"I only need four Lestrade, oh! Lestrade this is Freya, she is Mrs. Hudson's niece, Freya Lestrade is the detective inspector of Scotland Yard."

I took his outreached hand and shook it.

"Nice meeting you." I said.

"Pleasures mine." He greeted back.

Sherlock was already heading over to the place were a bunch of police people walked around, and I assumed that the body was over there, so I ran after him.


End file.
